Ten Song Challenge
by PTBvisiongrrl
Summary: Ten random songs, quick write about Tony/Gibbs.


NCIS Tony slash Gibbs Ten Random Song Fic Challenge

Challenge: Ten random songs from you ipod, writing only as long as the song lasts, for Tony/Gibbs.

I stole this challenge—read some examples for is by a few fine authors and decided to try it myself as a writing exercise. Only a little tweaking after doing it—proofing mostly. Interesting from the author's perspective, not so sure for you poor readers. Definitely NOT what I usually write, but what the hell.

And the standard I OWN NOTHINK, make no profit, etc. etc. etc.

You Used To Love to Dance, Melissa Etheridge

Gibbs watched Tony from the shadows of the bar. The music played loudly, Tony laughed as he danced with a young blonde, blue eyes sparkling in answering laughter at something Tony had said. Tony flirted like he breathed; Gibbs knew how charming he could be, first hand, at this very bar. That charm, at the bottom of a bottle of good booze and the end of a hard case, had caught Jethro's heart.

Tony and he had had a good run, longer than two of Jethro's marriages, he thought as he tossed back his drink and slipped out, unnoticed. But not good enough. He had called things off six months ago, when Tony had demanded more of him than he could give. Tony had wanted to be open about who he was and who he loved, tired of hiding from the world.

Gibbs just couldn't do it. And neither, then, could Tony.

The First Cut Is The Deepest, Cat Stevens

"I'm not asking you to love me like you loved her," Tony sighed. "I just want to hear the words sometimes, Jethro."

"I—" Gibbs cut himself off, unable to get the words out. "I'm trying, Tony."

"I know," Tony sighed, pulling his lover closer to him, snuggling down. "I understand.

In the year that he and Tony had been whatever it was that they were, Gibbs had struggled with this. He loved Tony very much like he loved Shannon, an emotion that felt like a betrayal to her memory. He wondered how long Tony would last, before Gibbs's past destroyed them.

She's Got a Way, Billy Joel

Tony watched Gibbs brush a kiss against Abby's cheek, saw the light in her eyes at the older man's approval. Why hadn't these two gotten together? Tony knew that Abby and Gibbs spent some time together away from work. The one time the team had come over for dinner, she had helped Tony clean up and she knew where everything went without looking or asking.

She was very comfortable in Gibbs's house.

Tony felt a slight tinge in his chest. Thinking about it, he realized that he was—jealous. His relationship with Jethro was new, and different for him—a man?—and he had never done well with relationships. Tony worried that Gibbs would wake up and realize, one day, that Tony wasn't what he really wanted.

Tony didn't really think Abby would steal his man away. But the thought that anyone else could at all was a pain in his chest.

You Don't Mess Around With Jim, Jim Croce

Gibbs was panting, clutching his side with one arm and holding his gun tightly in the other, when Tony arrived through the back door. There was a large lump of a man at Gibbs's feet, a pool of dark brown liquid pooling. "Boss?" Tony questioned. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Gibbs nodded.

"He try to run?" Tony asked, holstering his gun and kneeling to snap on cuffs.

"No," Gibbs grunted and grit his teeth. "He threw a hot coffee at me. What a waste of caffeine."

Houses of the Holy, Led Zepplin

Tony pulled up in front of Gibbs's house and hit park. He gave the man a few minutes to leave, chattering away as usual. He was talking about a new movie that Gibbs probably would never see, and just let his mouth run. The question was out before he could stop it. There was a moment of indecision, a few seconds where Tony was sure he had just fucked up royally. Had he really asked that?

Gibbs pulled a long sip from his coffee. "Are you asking me on a date, DiNozzo?"

"Uh—" Tony thought frantically. Oh, fuck it—in for a penny, in for a pound. "Would you say yes?"

Opening the door, swinging his long legs out, Gibbs turned back. "If you had actually asked." Then he slammed the door and headed up his walk.

I'm So Afraid, Fleetwood Mac

The boat was not helping tonight. Gibbs could not find his calm, find the center that the slow, methodical sanding usually brought him. Even the addition of bourbon did nothing to stop his mind from scattering to the four corners in a flurry of random thoughts.

Tony had almost died today. Again. This was—maybe the sixth or seventh time in his years are NCIS that Tony had been injured badly. In a day or three, when Tony was released, Gibbs would bring him here to recover.

And maybe, between arguments over taking his damn medication and eating the food he was supposed to instead of the junk he wanted, Jethro would finally find the courage to tell Tony how badly these little scares affected Jethro.

How much Jethro loved him, and couldn't bare to lose him like Shannon and Kelly.

Or maybe Gibbs would just watch an old movie with Tony, eat the blue jello, and stay the same lonely old man he already was.

Flip of the coin.

Bridge Over Troubled Water, Johnny Cash version

Gibbs splashed another few fingers of bourbon into the glass jar that had formerly held nails and handed it to Tony, who tossed it back equally quickly. "I loved her, and she hates me."

Nodding, Gibbs sipped his own drink, waiting for DiNozzo to keep talking. This wasn't the first late night discussion in his basement for Tony, and wouldn't be his last. The man just didn't ever catch a break. The father he had grown up with, the plague, losing Kate, killing Rivkin. Tony had the worse luck of anyone Gibbs knew.

"Maybe I'm just barking up the wrong tree here, Boss." Tony let the alcohol talk. "Maybe I'm just not the one-woman kind of guy. Never used to be. Let Jeanne get into my head, and now I'm all sorts of fucked up."

"How's that?" Gibbs asked.

"I'm actually thinking of swearing off women altogether." Tony held his glass jar out for another shot. "There's someone I've had my eye on for a long time…"

"A guy?" Gibbs felt his heart flutter a little. He had never thought DiNozoo would swing that way, or Jethro would have swooped in years ago.

"Yeah," Tony looked at Gibbs, took a deep breath, and then just put it out there. "You."

Gibbs could see Tony waiting for the rejection. Leaning in, brushing lips, Gibbs smiled at his boy. "Me, too."

Like Toy Soldiers, Eminem

The day was gray and oppressive. Gibbs wore sunglasses anyway. This was something he had never wanted to do—to live through. After Kate and Ari, Gibbs had sworn off close relationships. He had dated, yes; he wasn't a bad looking guy, and had a healthy libido. But anytime anyone had gotten too close, like Hollis, he had ended it and sent them on their way.

He had never realized, until several years later, that he had been in a relationship for years. His old brain, trained as it was, just hadn't been able to process it, understand it properly. Tony had forced his hand after another close brush with death and dismemberment undercover about five years ago. The fear he had felt as Tony had bled out on the street, as those green eyes had closed for what Gibbs thought would be the last time, had made Jethro pray for the first time in years.

Well acquainted with loss, Jethro swore he would tell Tony how he felt if Tony survived. Tony had, and five years of happiness followed. Until that bastard's bullet had ended it. Until Tony lay sprawled in the street again, but never to get up.

The service was quick, and Gibbs was stoic until the end. He held his tears until everyone had left the graveside, and he stayed until the weak sun had set.

Sick of Life, Godsmack

The last case was hard, harder than most. It just hit too close to home, a little girl and her mother killed in a car accident to prevent the mother from testifying against a drug dealer. Gibbs felt like he had walked back into 1991; coming home, to the house that had changed so little through three wives and almost twenty years….

He made his way to the basement, neglecting to remove his service weapon and lock it up as was his usual. Looking at the hull of his latest boat, the fury he felt could not be contained. He hefted a sledgehammer from the wall of tools, balanced its weight in his hands, and then smashed the boat to pieces.

Sitting amidst the mess, he contemplated his gun. He had done this once before, on the beach where he and Shannon and Kelly had had such fun. Pulling back the action, he placed it in his mouth and sighed. He hadn't had the guts back then.

A lot had happened in the intervening years, and he was tired. All he wanted was to have that life back again, to love and be loved and see his little girl.

Just then, he heard heavy footsteps cross his kitchen. He didn't hear Tony's strangled cry of "Boss!" before he pulled the trigger.

Heat of the Night, Bryan Adams

Gibbs had never learned to lock his door. He should have.

McGee knocked several times before deciding that this was a bad idea. He had killed a cop; whether or not the forensics could tell him, he knew in his gut. But he didn't know what to do with it. Gibbs would know. Gibbs had had his back through this entire investigation.

As Tim turned on his heel to leave, the door whipped open, revealing a disheveled Tony, hair every which way and shirtless in striped pajama pants. "Hey, Probie. He's in the basement with the radio on; he can't hear the door."

Tim's jaw dropped. "Tony? What are you doing here?"

The sparkle in Tony's eye matched the cheeky smirk. "Sleeping. Well, for the last hour or so," he said as he stepped back to let Tim pass.

"Your apartment being fumigated or something?" Tim asked, confusion apparent on his face.

"Nope," Tony answered, shutting the door and heading back up the steps. "Basement. And be glad you weren't an hour or so earlier."

Wandering to the basement steps, Tim considered the data for a minute or two until he put it together.

Holy crap. Tony and _Gibbs_?


End file.
